Quatre's BarMitzva
by Thatcher Storme
Summary: Quatre discovers the secret of his birth...


  
There comes a point in every boy's life when he must become a man. In the Jewish faith, this is the time of a boy's Bar Mitzvah. A Bar Mitzvah is a gathering in which the family, friends, and relatives come together to celebrate one's journey from boy to man. This story is about one boy who was not ready to become a man yet. As a matter of fact, perhaps he was too girly to become a man in the first place...   
  
  
Quatre's Bar Mitzvah  
  
"Wee! It's time for my Bar Mitzvah! I couldn't be more excited!" Quatre yelled giddily as he skipped down the street.  
The rabbi of the local synagogue had been worried about this particular boy for a long while. He had developed several girlish characteristics over his life such as skipping giddily and screaming in a painfully high-pitched tone. What worried him most was that Quatre was the number one Soprano in the choir.   
Rabbi Maxwell leaned back in his leather recliner and sighed. He couldn't believe he had accepted this position. He was still only fifteen and wasn't even Jewish. As a matter of fact, he wondered why he was offered the position in the first place, but it didn't matter to him. After all, he got a big office and lots of local praise.  
"I remember when Quatre was first born. I was only one month old, but I remember it clearly. Well, he was, um, yeah. Okay, so I don't remember it at all. So what! It's not like I have to make some kind of speech about Quatre's life or anything."  
Just then, Heero Yuy of all people rushed into the room. The sudden shock caused Duo to fall backwards in his chair and land with a deafening thud on the ground. He slowly climbed from the pile of papers, books, and other such things he had on his desk and turned his attention to Heero.  
"Oi. What is it Heero?" He inquired.  
"Do you have your speech about Quatre's life ready for tomorrow?"  
This again caused Duo to pitch over on the floor and roll around in panic. Heero only looked on lifting one eyebrow in a questioning expression.  
  
Meanwhile at the Winner residence, Quatre and his family, including his twenty-some sisters, were just settling down to dinner when the telephone rang. Quatre bounced out of his chair and screamed at the sudden sound. His father got up and answered the phone with an irritated look on his face.  
"Yeah? Who is it? Oh! Hello Rabbi Maxwell! How are you doing? What's that you say? You say there's a problem with Quatre? What do you mean? What's that? You say...oh my dear god."  
Quatre's father hung up the phone, his mouth wide open in disbelief. He then proceeded to lift a porcelain plate and smashed it to his forehead knocking him out cold instantly. Quatre jumped out of his chair and screamed at a pitch so high, his dog's head exploded.  
"Hey, since when did I have a dog?" Quatre wondered and then simply shrugged it off.  
Quatre rushed to his father's side, slapped his face lightly, and then checked his pulse.  
"He's okay. Just out cold, but he oughta' pull through. Hey! He'll be okay in time for my Bar Mitzvah tomorrow!"  
Quatre's father sat up quickly, nailing Quatre in the nose.  
"YOU FOOL! YOU'RE NOT HAVING A BAR MITZVAH!"  
"Wh...Why not, father?"  
"Because you're a girl!"  
The entire Winner family fainted from the shock and there were several large thuds.  
That night, Quatre's father explained a bit further.  
"Well, you mother and I had had twenty-nine daughters, and we wanted to make it thirty, so we had an operation done to make you a girl. The operation failed, however, and we had to cover our tracks. We sued the doctor and some nut of a judge gave him the death sentence. Figure that one out. We had forgotten until rabbi Maxwell looked up your medical record and gave us a call just at dinner."  
Quatre just stared blankly at his father.  
"What are you looking at?"  
Quatre only continued to stare.  
"I'm thinking about something. Yes! This is great!"  
"What?!" his father yelled.  
"Well, now me and Trowa can finally be together. Isn't that wonderful, father! Trowa's gonna' be your son-in-law!"  
"DOH!"  
Mr. Winner smacked his forehead, ran to the window, cracked it open, jumped out, and fell to his death.  
  
Epilogue  
  
"That, my friends, is how I came to this therapy session." Quatre finished.  
"That was an excellent story, Mrs. Barton."  
  
  
  
  
The End?  
  
  



End file.
